Felix
It’s amazing how much another person can shape the way you live. One day you’re fine, living your life, then the next you’re play dough in someone else’s hands—the way you think, what you did prior to meeting them, are things of the past. It’s almost like you become a stranger, even to yourself. They change, bend, and shape you.
Sometimes it’s for the worse.
For example, before Steven I didn’t check the clock very often. Only when I was at work would I check the clock to see how many hours there were left in my day. Now. Well, now it’s like I can feel time. During the first part of my day I can breathe easier, but once the clock hits noon it’s like a countdown of dread. I can feel every hour as they slip by.
Once he’s out the door in the morning I can breathe. I get housework done, of course. I swear when he’s home he leaves more and more of a mess to keep me busy. It’s fine. If I don’t have enough to do, he gets suspicious. That’s the last thing I need because there are things he doesn’t know.
Like the money I’ve hidden away for nearly a year and a half.
Thankfully he can’t hear my thoughts. It all seems easy on paper, but when someone is constantly changing the rules without you knowing, it keeps you on edge. I stay in line, I listen and do whatever he asks, and I don’t question or fight back.
Even when I really want to.
The first part of my day is easy. I feel free. I even write in my bullet journal a little bit. Then, as the day moves on, I clean every inch of the house then start dinner. I don’t even need to see the clock to feel when it’s almost five.
It’s like the air gets thicker the closer it gets to him coming back home. It’s dread I’m both sick of and used to. Dinner’s almost done, but I swear the water’s mocking me. It’s taking forever to boil. I should have started earlier, but I got caught up cleaning the bathroom after he left this morning, then I went back to bed. My stupid alarm didn’t go off and I ended up sleeping longer than I wanted to.
I was in too much pain last night to sleep next to him easily. It should disgust me, sleeping next to him, and for a while it did. Now I just feel numb. Going through the motions.
It’s easier when I just give in.
I woke up around eleven and rushed to clean the rest of the house. There was still broken glass on the floor from the cup he threw last night. I stepped on it. Once I got the bleeding to stop, I had to clean up the rest. Then I started dinner. He wanted spaghetti, and it takes about three hours plus to make a good sauce from scratch.
The trick with the pasta is to have it almost finished by the time he gets home but not let it get cold. Oh, and not let it get soggy, but it better be cooked through. Not mushy. Still hot.
My eyes slide to my phone.
She hasn’t called yet. I was hoping she’d call before he got home. I’ll have to block her number if she doesn’t call in the next five minutes. I just want to know if I got it. My entire plan revolves around it. This opportunity fell into my lap and I’ll do anything I need to make it happen.
I’ll be the best damn caregiver anyone has ever had.
Finally, the water begins to bubble, and I impatiently dump the pasta into the pot. I don’t care that it’s not boiling; it’ll soften either way. I look up at the microwave clock and sure enough, it’s ten to five.
My lungs shrink with every minute that passes while I stir the sauce. My eyes glance at the pot. “Cook faster!” I hiss at the pasta, like it’s going to make the spaghetti cook quicker. Normally I have everything down to the minute.
After last night I’m in too much pain to fight. Bruises decorated my ribs this morning when I went to look at the damage. I can’t even remember what set him off. That’s the thing, though, he never needs a real reason. If he doesn’t have one, he’ll find one.
All he needs is a spark.
It still hurts to breathe, every breath like lightning striking across my chest and stomach. I almost wonder if he’s broken a rib. Wouldn’t be the first time. There’s not much a hospital can do for me. It’s not like he’d take me anyway. Every breath hurts.
I just need to get through this week.
Tires crunch outside, and the hair on my arms stand up. I glance at the clock. Dammit, he’s early.
BUZZZZ.
I flinch, dropping the spoon in the sauce. My heart rate spikes. I see the number pop up on my phone. Shit! I glance out the window. He’s still in his patrol car. Leaving the sauceto simmer I grab my phone, watching his car through the small kitchen window.
I answer, still watching him in his car. “Hello,” I say softly.
“Uh, hi. Felix?”
“Yes, this is he, um, it’s not the best time I—” He’s moving around in the car, probably gathering his things. “Can I call you back tomorrow?”
“I just wanted you to know that your background check came in today and I’m ready for you to start whenever you can. The sooner the better. I know this is a huge undertaking and?—”
